


Sober Up (Help Me Feel Again)

by CapricornBookworm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Bar, Drinking, Drunk Draco Malfoy, Drunk Harry Potter, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Life After Hogwarts, M/M, Sobriety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 15:31:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16663474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapricornBookworm/pseuds/CapricornBookworm
Summary: After the war, Harry couldn’t keep a job and kept showing up drunk. Draco couldn’t evengeta job because of his Dark Mark. They run into one another at the bar. The rest is history.





	Sober Up (Help Me Feel Again)

****

_Won't you help me sober up_  
_Growing up it made me numb_  
_And I want to feel something again_

****

“Harry _fucking_ Potter.”

Harry turned as he entered the bar, catching a glimpse of an eerily familiar head of blond hair. He walked over toward Draco and sat down on a barstool next to him, signaling the bartender for a glass of Firewhiskey, “Draco fucking Malfoy.”

They drank in silence for a moment, listening to the bustle of people milling around the bar and the click of shoes on the dancefloor. 

“So, where do you work these days?” Harry asked, trying desperately not to sound as pathetic as he felt, especially since Harry himself hadn't been able to keep a steady job in years. 

“You really think I can get hired...” Draco paused, rolling up his sleeve briskly, his Dark Mark pulsing on his forearm, “...With _this?_ ” he continued with bitterness lacing his voice.

“‘S’pose not,” Harry replied awkwardly as he took a swig of Firewhiskey, the liquid burning down his throat in a way that reminded him that he was alive.

“And why are you here, Potter? I don’t recall you joining any offensive terrorist groups that required a tattoo during the War.”

Harry lifted his drink in a silent cheers, downing the rest of his glass and shivering at the sting it sent searing across his tongue, “Helps numb the pain. Just for a little while.”

Draco nodded but he didn’t make eye contact. Instead, he signaled the bartender for two more drinks, sliding one of them over to Harry, “Cheers to that.”

****

_I'm not where I'm supposed to be_  
_I hope that you're missing me_  
_'Cause it makes me feel young_

****

“Potter.”

“Malfoy.”

It became habit for the two of them to run into one another at the local bar. No matter the time of day, no matter the level of drunkenness, it was commonplace for Harry and Draco to spend hours drinking and bantering together. 

“What is that, your fifth drink?” Draco inquired, gesturing toward the graveyard of empty shot glasses and mugs strewn in front of Harry. 

“Sixth actually. What’s it to you?”

“Seems a bit excessive for a Sunday morning, don’t you think?”

“Seems hypocritical of you to judge me, seeing as you’re here too.” Harry retorted, sending a glare in Draco’s direction.

“Touche`, Potter,” Draco replied as he sat down.

What Harry didn’t notice, was that this time, Draco didn’t order a drink, he simply sat with him and talked until Harry became too drunk to get home on his own. 

Later that afternoon, Harry woke up in his bed, socks taken off and covers pulled up neatly over his body, but he simply couldn’t remember how he had gotten there.

****

_Won’t you help me feel something again?_  
_Can I finally feel something again?_

****

Harry let out a sigh, the warmth of his breath fogging up his glasses in the cold winter air. He shivered and pulled his jacket tighter around himself as he approached the bar.

He pulled open the door and stepped inside, shrugging off his jacket to hang it on one of the hooks near the front window. Then he removed his glasses and used the softly woven material of his scarf to wipe his glasses clean.

As Harry slid the cool metal back onto his face, he looked over toward the bar and noticed a head of expertly styled blond hair tilted in his direction.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Draco called out, a fond smile forming on his lips.

“I’m shocked, absolutely flabbergasted to see you, Draco,” Harry replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he dropped into the seat next to him.

“Oh, so it’s Draco now? Didn’t realize we’d progressed to a first-name basis,” Draco joked with a smirk. 

“Figure we’ve known each for what, ten years now? Thought it was time for a change.”

Draco considered Harry for a moment, and Harry couldn’t help but feel that Draco’s eyes were seeing far beyond the hardened surface he put on. “Well then, _Harry_ , this one’s on me,” Draco said, gesturing for the bartender. 

When Harry’s drink arrived, he took a swig without second thought and suddenly felt something warming up inside him. Instead of the burn he had become so accustomed to, this liquid spread through his body like the comforting heat of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. It reminded him of simpler times. It was something he hadn’t tasted in years.

Draco had ordered him a glass of Butterbeer.

More than an hour later, all Harry had been drinking was Butterbeer and a delicious Green Apple Cider that was specially made for the holidays, and Harry couldn’t remember the last time he felt so… _present._

While the Firewhisky and Goblin Rum smoothed out the rough edges, numbing the pain and dulling the sensations around him, the Butterbeer brought everything into focus, the images sharper, the colors brighter. And that, in and of itself helped Harry forget about his pain for a little while.

Eventually, Harry and Draco left the bar, walking out into the chilled London air with their jackets buttoned up and their scarves shielding their noses from the biting wind. 

Draco invited Harry back to his flat, and the two of them spent the evening cooking homemade mince pies, listening to Albania and Finland play in a Quidditch match on the Wizarding Wireless Radio, and fighting over the affections of Draco’s cat, Armani. 

“I’m fairly certain she likes me better,” Harry called from where he was lounging on the couch, the beautiful pure-white cat blinking up at him lovingly, one eye a blue-grey that resembled Draco’s, and the other eye a bright green that oddly matched Harry’s own eye color.

“That’s bollocks. She would like anyone who brushed her for two hours straight,” Draco retorted from the kitchen.

That night, the three of them fell asleep together in Draco’s plush bed, Armani stretched out on her back in between Harry and Draco, letting out a soft purr as her belly moved slowly up and down.

****

With Draco’s help and stubborn persistence, over the next few months, Harry was able to quit drinking altogether, and then the pair of them started a Healer’s clinic specializing in the mental health of individuals with PTSD and substance abuse from the War.

Somehow, Harry and Draco were able to find what they needed in one another.

They got a fresh start.

And they could finally feel again.

_I can finally feel something again_

****

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics from "Sober Up" by AJR.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this fic! Comments and kudos truly make my day <3


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